Trapped
by Rickashay
Summary: AU Magic was beautiful and dangerous, just like the Minister of Magic, Tom Riddle. Rated T, pre-slash, male/male, and politics. One-shot


Title: Trapped

Authoress: Rickashay  
Genre: Romance

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,116

Warning(s): Pre-Slash, politics

Character(s): Tom Riddle/Harry Potter

Summary: Magic was beautiful and dangerous, just like Prime Minister, Tom Riddle.

* * *

Magic was beautiful…

There was movement in someone's body when engrossed with one spell, fire as they danced with those flames. There were flashes of power, of danger, and they were poised as they prepared to strike.

Minister of Magic was a perfect example of someone that simply loved magic…

The man could feel the magic stirring within buildings, saw the potential in young students, and saw the ebb and flow of magic at his fingertips. Riddle was talented, extremely so, and some considered it a waste of talent to be only Minister of Magic. Shouldn't he be creating new spells, making the Wizarding World a better place by creating the newest potion on the market, the newest gadget that could enhance the life of wizards throughout the world?

Instead he went into politics.

It was not to help people…make no mistake of that…

He wanted to rule people…

To be the best and to be on top…and he accomplished that.

Sometimes, amidst the other Lords and Ladies of the court, watching the Minister take his seat, he saw the elegance and poise that Riddle wielded like a deadly weapon.

A beautiful, destructive weapon…

Immediately, he could feel Tom's eyes land on him. His dull, muddy red eyes clear in the light and glinting with such dark amusement. Huddled within his seat, Harry shifted his body, submissive to the oppressive heat from the powerful wizard, and ignored the smirks upon the other Lords faces.

They were all too aware of the effect that the Minister of Magic had upon people, especially those that had an _affinity_ for Riddle's type of magic.

It was part of being a Dark Lord, you were granted a certain amount of respect and a compulsion to serve the Lord of the magic you wielded. It was a blessing from magic itself. Another reason why Dumbledore has a vast following...and most wizards were not even aware of losing control.

Tucked away in his seat, observing rather than commenting as it was Harry's first year of being a Lord. He had turned seventeen the previous summer, and from the droll comments as the politicians droned on, he rather wished he were at Hogwarts.

Those muddy eyes continued to stare down at him, the twitch of amusement clear in the corners of his mouth, the slight wrinkles at the edges of his eyes, and it was predator's stare.

The Minister had a unique ability to make one word sound beautiful. It was magical, a spell that spilled from his lips as if it was a beautiful caress, dangerous and pure at the same time, tainted in the richness of darkness.

_Crucio…_

It was not long ago when Potter had been invited to one of Tom's infamous parties and that spell had only been used once, dousing the flames of rowdiness and bluster in the room.

It was directed at a man with beady eyes, twitchy even in his seat, before the spell.

"_Peter, you will be silent when your Lord speaks."_

The admonishment brought a chill through the room and yet the suffocating heat of the magic quickly encased them all.

Harry Potter could see how someone could become infatuated with Thomas Riddle.

It was entirely too easy…

Perhaps the Slytherin intended to do that in purpose…he _was_ a politician.

The court was dismissed by the wave of the Minister's hand, who immediately stood while others quickly shoved their way to the exits, everyone eager to leave the dull mutters of men perched on pedestals and pointing their noses down at each other. As always, and there was no exception, Harry waited for an opportunity to leave without jostling in the crowd or the uncomfortably experience of actually talking to such people.

A hand on his elbow stopped him when he hauled his book bag over his shoulder, fully prepared to stalk back to his office since the crowd was already dimming to a trickle, like a creek instead of a river.

"Excuse me?" Riddle murmured. His smiling red eyes, enchanting and mesmerizing like those of a snake's, right before it strikes

"Yes, Minister?" There was no hint of impatience in his voice, no hint of rudeness as he plastered a smile on his face, but he could feel the burn of a blush on his cheeks.

"Perhaps it is too forward of me, but would you like to have lunch with me?" the suave, elegant man smiled, teeth glinting and obvious intentions in his eyes. It was a political game, no doubt, and Harry learned to avoid those at all costs.

"Well…I act –,"

"It will be merely a lunch and I will be happy to escort you back into the Ministry of Magic, once we are done." Still, the Minister kept eye contact, unblinking and focused upon his own eyes.

It was unnerving…

But the offer was tempting…

"Okay, but…"

Immediately, a hand closed around his wrist and one dull _pop _later, they were standing outside of Achilles' Heel. It was a rather upper-class version of the Leaking Cauldron, where people ate little sandwiches and laughed with high voices, soft and bell-like. Tom's hand immediately rested on his back, guiding him away from prying eyes and leading him towards the back.

Harry stiffened and brushed him aside, a sharp, suspicious glance shot toward the politician.

"I apologize," but he was grinning.

Tucked in a corner, far away from the door and in a position where they could observe anyone that would approach them, Harry took note of the stock of white hair mere tables away from them, grey eyes smirking. He also noted the greasy, hooked-nose professor that vainly tried to conceal himself by hiding behind a potions magazine. Two other suspicious looking gentlemen took places near the door, a woman with a sharp smile and her aura filled with malice. Magic crackled in the room, a combination of Harry's fury and Tom's amusement. The waiter approached, obviously uncomfortable in the garb he had to wear for his disguise.

"What can I get you started with, Sirs?"

_Barty Crouch Jr.,_ the name was whispered into his mind.

The Minister of Magic ordered for the both of them, as Harry was too busy scanning the room for a possible escape to notice. When the wine, cheese, and bread arrived, he could only tear into them with nervous, shaking hands.

When he took a sip of the wine, the liquor rolled down his throat but it did nothing to help.

"I hope you rightly assumed that I invited you here for a specific reason," the Minister began, his wine glass cradled in his hand as he smiled down upon the younger male, the red liquid swirling in the glass the exact color of his eyes.

Red…

When they had brightened, Harry had no idea.

"Yeah, I thought so considering your cronies are stationed at the doors."

A daring move…

But Harry had been a Gryffindor…

Immediately, the smile thinned into a tight-lipped snarl, disguised underneath the visage of a minister.

The magic in the room heightened…

Heads turned, dark expressions as hands reached for their wands in their pockets. The slight flick of their Lord's hand made them pause in their steps, their faces tense in fury.

"Mr. Potter, merely do me the favor of hearing me out," the boy snorted. Tom Riddle paused in his words, watching his expression with quick eyes, which paused on Harry's forehead, his eyes, and trailed lower to his mouth, which was pursed in displeasure and suspicion. "I need your help."

"I won't listen to you unless you dismiss your thugs." Jutting his chin forward, his expression was much too confident for the nervous energy bubbling in his stomach and his quaking chest.

His hands were shaking…even when they reached for the wine to calm him.

Tom smiled. "Of course," and with a mere wave of his hand, such an elegant gesture and yet the authority in his posture, knowing he would be obeyed.

Many of the other customers rose in their seats, bowing politely to their waiters and waitresses before moving outside. The employees, likewise, vacated to their quarters inside the kitchens.

"I wished to speak to you about the possibility of…an alliance -, "

"An alliance?" Harry's voice was incredulous…

"Do not interrupt me!" Eyes flashed, before the expression was quickly schooled away. "There is a bill that is going to be suggested by Lucius Malfoy and…as the Gryffindor heir, your opinion carries some weight that we could not do without, unless we wished to give up on this bill." At this point, the politician reached inside his robes and pulled out a stack of papers. "This bill is rather important to…our agenda."

"You mean _your _agenda, since I doubt Lord Malfoy could care less."

Tom's large hands curled into fists, his long fingers curling as if there was an invisible wand clutched in his grasp. "Indeed," he said blandly, "but the purpose of this _bill _would be of interest to you, _Harry_."

"In what way?" Harry shifted in his stance, mimicking the Minister as he crossed his legs and straightened in his seat. "I doubt you could possibly know so much about me, _sir_."

"This bill will set aside a portion of money for muggleborns that are being abused, a shelter will be set up for their use, and magical means to attend schooling here in Britain. There has been a certain amount of influx of abuse in muggleborn houses, something which I hope to curb." It was spoken without pause, matter-of-factly, and yet the glimmer of amusement inside those red eyes, Harry immediately knew that the Minister of Magic had a trap for him.

But…

Minister Riddle could not possibly know his past, know about the Dursleys or Harry's disdain for them, hiding away from the muggles and living in the upstairs of the Leaking Cauldron. It was common knowledge with his close friends that his childhood had not been the best.

Otherwise, no one else would have known.

"How did you know this?"

It was plain as day what he meant.

"How did I know your past? That is an easy question to answer," the man brought his hands together, his fingertips joining their partners. "The nurse at Hogwarts was aware of the signs of abuse and only because you did not allow her to interfere, she was forced to as a healer. As such, she was very willing to give a little information, in case it would help, "the poor dear". She did not say everything, nothing directly, but she hinted enough that it was clear to me. When I posed the question to her, obvious from your shyness and obvious disdain for society, I thought you were a perfect fit to be my little lapdog. It was guess work," he shrugged, "but apparent to someone well aware of the signs." Each word spoken was calculated, knowing the effect and weight it would have on the boy.

It was a trade…

It was an exact bill that Harry had been working on with a friend, and in the possession of Thomas Riddle.

It was very Slytherin of him…

_I'll help you with this bill and you'll help me with something at a later date._

The darkening of those red eyes, returning to muddy-brown and the slight, mocking curl of a smile brought a new sense of danger.

"Sir?" Harry said as Minister Riddle stood, clasping his cloak underneath his chin.

"I believe we've spent too much time here," a hand once again caught his wrist…

_I own you..._

And he was deposited in his office, a kiss pressed to his wrist before another pop sounded. Harry could feel the lingering, oppressive heat from Tom's magic in the air.

It was a warning.

* * *

It was apparent why they considered it "courting followers" considering that each day, somehow, the Minister of Magic would steal him away for a thirty-minute lunch, poking and prodding him with questions, mixed with intimidations and fake pleasantry, except that Riddle seemed to actually enjoy those moments.

And embarrassing Harry…

"Lucius Malfoy has the floor."

Showtime…

"I want to suggest the Abused Muggleborns Act, preparing any possibilities that such an act will occur and that the muggleborns in question will be cared for by the government, providing food, shelter, transportation, possible foster-care, and school funding." Lucius Malfoy's expression said it all, the disdain and glancing at the Minister as if saying, "aren't I doing well?"

"And do you have a representative?"

"Harry Potter."

Heads turned and gazed at the green-eyed Lord, who stood in all of his glory, meeting the smirking gaze of the Minster of Magic.

He wondered, briefly…

Whether you could be trapped on purpose.

When he met the Prime Minister in his office, a glass of wine held in his hand and enjoying the envious glances of the Dark Lord's stooges, the hand on his back stayed put while they toasted a victory.

The Lord Slytherin and Gryffindor, with them on their side, they would be guaranteed victory.

No one saw the short, brief kiss pressed to the top of Harry's head or the red eyes that glinted with satisfaction.

* * *

Author's Notes: Another short one-shot. I really wanted to explore the politics in the fandom. Plus, pre-flash is always fun. As always, thank you guys for reading! I really appreciate it!


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